“What exactly did you hear?”
Mandy prayed to God that, despite showing all sorts of signs of being a halfwit, Sidney would know enough to trust her on this. “Someone stepped up on the porch. Right by this window.” The window the kitchen table sat in front of. “It was a man, I’m sure of it, not an animal or the house settling or the wind. Someone snooping around. I turned the lantern on when I got up with Catherine. I think, whoever it was might have been thinking of coming inside.”
Mandy shivered, remembering how she’d felt—watched. The windows had curtains but the fabric was thin. A man could watch through the windows and see pretty well inside. At least make out her form in the rocker. And the glass and curtains certainly wouldn’t stop a bullet.
Sidney seemed to take her very seriously. Mandy was grateful for that … for his sake.
His eyes shifted as he frowned. “I’ve regretted a few of the men I hired to build the house.”
Mandy sighed with relief, though she didn’t let Sidney see that. She was no longer going to twist herself into a knot hoping for Sidney’s respect. Starting today she was going to demand it.
“And what about the two men who ride with you? I don’t trust them either.” Mandy had never gotten Sidney to listen to a word against Cooter or Platte. Of course, Mandy rarely spoke to Sidney, so it’s not like he’d had a lot of chances. And why wouldn’t he be suspicious? So far the only people he hadn’t suspected of wanting his gold were Catherine and Angela. And he’d probably get around to that when they were a few years older.
Sidney did what he did best: quietly blamed the whole world for trouble of his own making. “I hate to fire any of the men because the house is a big project and it needs a lot of workers. But I’ll look into it, see if anyone admits to being out for a walk last night.”
That wasn’t good enough but probably all Sidney was capable of. She’d protect this family herself.
“Why did you build up here?” Mandy expected little but criticism from him. But Sidney was talking a bit, and she was genuinely interested. She hoped he could tell. “I would have thought you might want to go back East, to a more comfortable life. The living is hard out here.”
Mandy didn’t mention train travel and the fact that she could occasionally go visit her family if they lived nearer civilization. She could go maybe twice a year, for six months each time.
She remembered that, at the beginning, when Sidney was more vulnerable to her opinion, before gold had made him believe he was royalty, he’d admitted his mother had been disreputable. It was possible there was something back East that Sidney wanted to stay far away from.
Sidney, maybe distracted by his paranoia, didn’t snap at Mandy. “There’s just something about that spot, up on the mountaintop.” He pushed back the curtain and looked out the window up at his monument to his own greatness. “When I first hired my assistants”—only through sheer willpower did Mandy keep from rolling her eyes at Sidney calling Cooter and Platte his “assistants”—“we scouted around looking for a building site. I loved the view from here, and this cabin seemed adequate to our needs. But now, with the children coming …” He gave Mandy’s stomach a satisfied look that made her uncomfortable.
She had a feeling Sidney thought to keep her in the family way for most of her life. She loved her children, but she wasn’t a bit fond of Sidney. And some … closeness to him was required for all those babies to come along.
“We need more space, and once I was up here, I looked around and realized the view was even better from up there.”
Mandy had a sudden image of Sidney getting into that house and realizing there were even higher peaks around. It was high up, but it wasn’t the very top of the world after all. They’d have to move again and again, higher and higher. Maybe he’d think the house had to be bigger every time, too. Pretty soon she’d be living in a castle atop a snowcap.
Since he was talking pleasantly for a change, she carefully kept from snorting in disgust.
“We’ll be happy up there, Mandy. You wait and see.”
The way he said it pinched Mandy’s heart. She really was fed up with her husband and, because of that, didn’t spend much time trying to understand him. She thought, in fact, that she did understand him. He was an idiot, she understood that completely. But he sounded sad when he said that. As if— “Aren’t you happy now, Sidney?”
His head came up, his eyes wide, as if her questions startled him.
Knowing how moody he was, Mandy told herself she probably shouldn’t pursue it, but it didn’t hurt to try to have a good relationship with her husband. It was probably a waste of time, but it didn’t hurt to try. “You’re healthy. We’re all healthy. We’re rich. We have beautiful children. Why wouldn’t you be happy right now?”
“I—I am happy, I suppose, but I could be happier. I just need to get our lives in order and then we can finally settle down and live in contentment. I can have what I need to be happy and you—you can put down that rifle you always keep at hand and be a proper woman.”
The part about her being proper wasn’t new. She leaned forward, restraining her temper. “You don’t know me at all, do you, Sidney?”
Scowling, Sidney said, “Of course I know you. Don’t be ridiculous.”
Praying for the right words, Mandy said, “You want to find happiness for yourself. You think you’ll find it with the right house and the right view and the right amount of money, and I hope you do. I hope you find whatever it is you’re searching for. But you owe me the same thing. I’m a woman born and raised on a Texas ranch. I lived with my ma and little sisters, a real hardscrabble life, for two years before she married my pa. I learned—”
“I know all that.” His expression closed up.
Mandy kept trying. “The thing is, you want contentment and happiness, and I want them for you. But do you want my contentment? Do you even know me well enough to care if I’m happy?”
“What have you got to be unhappy about?” The growling was starting.
“I was the best sharpshooter on the McClellen ranch, Sidney. Do you realize that?”
“I’ve heard you say you’re a good shot.”
“Not a good shot, the best. One of the best in all of west Texas, my pa used to say. I use my rifle to feed this family, but it’s more than that. It’s a talent I have that I’m proud of.” And a little scared of, but she didn’t say that out loud. “It’s not something I do for lack of womanly manners. It’s a big part of who I am, the skill that came from needing to be accurate, from living a rugged life where we needed to put food on the table to survive, then later from competing with my sisters and Pa and Ma.”
Sidney stared at her as if wishing she’d say something that made sense.
“Your contentment seems to require making me over into a wife you can be proud of, but you owe me the respect of being proud of me right now!” Mandy saw her fists clenched and forced them to open.
Lord, protect me.
Right now she needed the Lord to protect her from her own temper. She felt the cold that came over her when she was shooting. The icy cold that steadied her hands and calmed her nerves. Her eyesight seemed to sharpen. The world slowed down. It was always in the back of her mind that one of these times, when she held her gun, her blood flowing like sleet in her veins, she might not come back from the cold. This time she might stay frozen forever.
Above all, she knew that this fighting fury, calm and deadly, had no place in this talk with her husband. She tried to push the cold away.
“I hope and pray for your happiness and want you to be content, but you owe me that right back. Instead of fixing me, you need to take pride in having a wife that can outshoot, out-rope, and outride almost every man in these mountains.” Leaning forward, trying to pierce Sidney’s cloddish opinions, she added, “When am I going to get that from you?”
“Get what?”
“Get respect.” She slammed a fist on the table, and when she did Sidney’s eyes focused on her.
Until this moment, he’d quit listening. Was she surprised?
Sighing, Mandy leaned back. “Get you to embrace what I am instead of trying to mold me into whatever twisted vision of perfect womanhood you have inside your head.”
“I respect you, Mandy. I just wish you were more refined. You were brought up in a wild place.”
Mandy’s eyes went out the window to the back of beyond where they lived. There was no place wilder than this.
“I respect who you are, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn more womanly ways, better manners.”
Better manners? Maybe she’d say “please” when she took the butt of her gun to his head. And “thank you” after he passed out on the floor. She fought down the cold. It seemed like when a woman tackled a big old fight with her husband, she ought to at least be fiery hot with rage.
“Look at how I’ve changed since I found gold.” Sidney touched his chest with his widespread fingers, flashing his stupid ring at her, caressing his dark gray suit and white silk shirt with the foolish string tie that only had a use, as far as Mandy could see, if Sidney suddenly needed to brand a fractious calf. “I dress better, ride in a better carriage, conduct myself like a wealthy man ought. That’s all part of finding contentment.”
And what about finding your teeth when I knock them out, huh, Sid?
“Oh, before I go up to see how the work is progressing on the house, I forgot to mention that I bought a team of horses when I was in Helena.”
Spending money like it was fresh milk he was afraid would go sour if he kept it around too long.
It was a shame there was so much of it, because if it ever ran out, Sidney might stop being such an arrogant halfwit.
“We could use a couple for the girls.” Mandy allowed him that. Buying horses wasn’t a pure waste. “They’ll need gentle saddle ponies. Did you—”
“I didn’t get ponies for the children to ride, for heaven’s sake.” He looked at her like she’d lost her mind.
Well, considering the man she’d married, he might have a point.
“It’s not ladylike for a woman to ride a horse. I bought a new carriage and need a matched pair to pull it. I would have preferred grays of course. But these are the best so I bought them. I found a breeder over by Divide who, the word is, has the prettiest pair of black thoroughbreds anyone in these parts has ever seen. They’re two-year-olds, out of a black stallion he owns that seems to be famous through the whole state. I bought them, and he’s delivering them as soon as they’re thoroughly trained to pull a buggy.”
“Divide?” Mandy’s stomach swooped. “A black stallion?” That could only be—
“Tom Linscott.” Sidney pushed back from the table. “He was in Helena delivering his herd. I’d asked about horses and they pointed me in his direction. He seemed really interested in our new house and where we lived. He’d heard of me, in fact. I suppose I need to get used to being an important man.”
He’d heard of Sidney all right. When he’d come to visit and Sidney wasn’t home—the summer she and Sidney had gotten married. Tom had wanted to see the little foal Belle Harden’s mare had delivered out of his stallion. And he’d stayed all day and done the work a husband should have done. By the end of that day, he’d known exactly who … and what … Sidney was, without Mandy saying a word.
“He’ll be a month at least delivering them because I insisted he not try and unload inferior, badly trained animals on us.”
“Did you say that to him?” Mandy swallowed hard, remembering Tom could get cranky, especially about his horses.
“I told him my expectations, of course.”
And he let you live? Mandy didn’t say that out loud, but she was impressed with Tom’s restraint.
“I told him where we lived, and he said he’d come on up. Remember, we raised a foal out of his stallion that first year we lived out here?”
“I remember,” Mandy said faintly. She also remembered that Tom Linscott had touched a very tender place in her heart at a time when she wasn’t very happy with her husband. She’d been glad not to see Tom again.
And now she would. And she was even unhappier with her husband now than then.
At least she wasn’t cold anymore.
She ran her hand over her stomach and was grateful Catherine cried from the bedroom. She didn’t have good control of the expression on her face and wasn’t sure what Sidney would see.
She rose from the table, but before she turned to fetch her little girl, the itching of guilt made her more forgiving of her husband. “I want you to be contented and happy, Sidney.”
She wanted it for herself too, badly, because right this moment she was as restless and discontented as any woman who ever lived. She thought of Eve in the Garden of Eden, reaching for that apple, and knew how a woman could be wildly tempted to do something she knew was wrong.
“It’s something I pray for—your happiness.” And she was going to start praying harder, for all of them. “But contentment isn’t going to come from gold or a fine house or the best horses or a grand view from a mountaintop.”
She thought her expression was one she dared to let Sidney see now. She hoped. Turning to him, she spoke kindly, with her whole heart. “Happiness is inside of you. It comes from being at peace—with yourself, and mostly with God. It usually grows best when you’re giving rather than taking. We’re so far out we can’t attend a church service, but I worship with the children on Sunday mornings. You could join us. You could—”
“Mandy,” Sidney cut her off in that arrogant voice that made her think of the weight of her gun on her back.
She realized that she’d just asked Sidney to accept her and respect her. Now here she stood trying to change him.
“Don’t start that.” Sidney waved his hand impatiently, dismissively.
Mandy noticed again that ring on his hand. It fit, which must mean it was new because his fingers had gotten fat along with the rest of him. It was a large, rather ugly ring that looked like he’d had a gold nugget made into a piece of jewelry. He might have been wearing it for quite a time. Mandy realized that she’d gotten into the habit of ignoring him whenever possible.
God, please protect my husband from that day when I really explode.
Mandy was genuinely afraid that day was coming soon. She’d seen and heard the explosions when they’d blasted a trail up to this pass. She sometimes imagined her own temper detonating.
Boom!
And from now on she was going to quit fearing that. She was no longer going to be the wife Sidney wanted her to be.
Sidney stood from the table and headed for the door. Going to check on his mountaintop castle.
Starting right now … in fact, she’d already started … she was going to be herself, no matter how much Sidney disliked that.
Another thought struck Mandy hard. It was so obvious she almost smiled. She had never succeeded in being good enough for Sidney. All her efforts and they’d been a waste of time. Oh, sometimes for a few hours she’d been able to please him, but she’d never been proper enough, restrained enough. And that wasn’t for lack of trying.
It was just the cold, hard, dirty truth that Sidney’s unhappiness was something that had nothing to do with her. Though he blamed her, it had everything to do with him.
So she couldn’t even say she was failing. The truth was she was wasting her time trying to suit him, trying to be restrained enough for him to be happy with her. Mandy vowed to herself that she wasn’t doing it anymore.
She watched Sidney leave, wondering what the future held for her and her unhappy husband.
Tom Linscott’s face immediately came into focus, vivid and clear, every feature etched in her mind. Which was frightening because she’d only seen him once, and that had been over two years ago.
She turned her thoughts back to violence against her husband, which somehow seemed far less sinful. If she lost her temper—truly, horribly lost it—Sidney might be finished with her, and she might get
herself sent down the road … all the way home to her parents in Texas.
Mandy tried very hard to convince herself that would be a very bad thing.
Eleven
Seven days since she’d fallen off a cliff. Sally hadn’t gotten free yet, but this was it. Now it was time.
Sally watched Wise Sister clean up after breakfast, waiting impatiently for the sweet lady to go away.
“This is for you.” Last night Wise Sister had sewed busily for the entire evening, and this morning she’d laid out a beautiful doeskin dress, tanned nearly white. Now she presented that dress to Sally.
“Really?” With a gasp of pleasure, Sally reached out and touched the beautifully tanned dress. Somehow that dress seemed to bring all the parts of Sally’s nature together. It was practical and tough. But it was beautiful and so lovely to touch. Sally realized as she took the dress from Wise Sister that her heart had longed for the creation Wise Sister was working on.
“Your clothes are ruined. Ripped. You need something.” The kind Shoshone woman slung her quiver on her back. “Get dressed.”
The elderly woman headed out to hunt so Sally had only Logan to contend with.
Her leg was still as broken as it could be, no denying, though the swelling had gone down a bit, and Wise Sister had tightened the splints and the leather moccasin to fit. But her ribs were feeling a lot better. Now, every time she moved or breathed, it felt like being clubbed with a dull hammer rather than like wolves gobbling down her chest. A big improvement.
Her headache was gone. That gave her the most hope. She’d been practicing sitting up whenever she got left alone for a minute, and all day yesterday she’d managed it without the room spinning. She’d stood one-legged a few times, too, clinging to the bed carefully so she wouldn’t fall and make her injuries worse.
And now she had clothes. That had been a big problem holding her back. Sally ran her hand over the fringe along the arms and skirt and a few rows of beads that Sally would have protested about if she’d realized who Wise Sister was making the dress for. It was a shame to waste such fussiness on Sally. Such pretty fussiness.
Sophie's Daughters Trilogy Page 42